Royal Treatment
by Salacassera
Summary: FF2. Two unhappy people suffer through a stormy autumn night, which brightens considerably at the end.


Author's Note: This story is based on the version of FF2 that came out in FF Origins (not FF4), so I'm using those names, not the accepted translations. I don't own FF2 or any of its characters. It all belongs to Square-Enix. Most of the characters' backgrounds here was completely made up by me - since FF2's storyline was so simple, I found myself filling in the blanks while I played.

Gordon of Kas'ion kept his head down as he rode his chocobo across the empty fields, struggling to ignore the cold rain that soaked so easily through his cloak. It wasn't too late to turn back, but the young prince refused to even look over his shoulder in the direction of Fynn Castle, never mind return there.

Of course Hilda told him to stay as long as he pleased, but her actions made it very clear that he already overstayed his welcome. She urged him to go home and start picking up the shattered pieces of his own kingdom, but Gordon knew the real reason she wanted him gone. She couldn't bear to be reminded of poor Scott.

Scott. Handsome, clever, brave, forceful, and strong, yet compassionate, gentle and understanding, the elder prince of Kas'ion was everything a perfect ruler should be, only twenty-one and already adored by his people. Gordon, pale, nervous and timid, had always been in his sibling's shadow. With Scott gone, he felt completely lost. He had always been content to let his older brother handle the responsibilities that came their way.

Until he met Hilda, King Fynn's only daughter. Gordon wiped rain from his eyes and tried to banish the princess's image from his mind, but failed. He pictured her the way she often sat, laughing up into Scott's face, blonde curls escaping from her tiara. It was always expected that Hilda and Scott would marry on her twentieth birthday, just as it was expected that Scott would inherit their father's throne. None of it bothered Gordon until then. The young princess was so taken by Scott that she hardly paid Gordon a glance. The king of Kas'ion encouraged this romance by sending both of his children to spend every summer at Fynn. Gordon remembered those long months mostly spent in the castle library, talking to Mindu, Hilda's exotic tutor, whose dark eyes were sympathetic under his heavy robes.

But despite all that, Gordon told himself that he really had loved his brother, truly adored him, looked up to and tried to emulate him with a passion. That's what made the rumors surrounding Scott's death so painful. The prince's shudder had nothing to do with the pounding rain. He remembered that day when the Palamecia Empire attacked Fynn, when he, Scott, Hilda and the others had to choice but to flee to the nearby town of Altair, when Hilda's father was wounded by an arrow. Scott knew the importance of a country's leader, knew that if the king or the princess were to die, the people wouldn't have the heart to resist the Empire, so he shouted at Gordon to go on while he bought them some badly needed time to escape.

Gordon obeyed him, riding the rest of the way to Altair with only one backward glance. Scott never returned. Gordon always wondered if he made the right decision that day, if he should have stayed behind with Scott, or insisted that his older brother stop playing the hero and came with them. But he never even thought of the other possibility until the rumors started, whispered stories that Gordon murdered Scott, that he purposely left him to die, killed him to claim not only Kas'ion's crown but also its future queen. People mistook his reclusive behavior after Scott's death to be remorse. Gordon tried telling himself that the gossip would eventually die when a more exciting topic came up, that it was only the product of bored men with too much time on their hands, that it didn't really matter what the people thought, but he knew that wasn't true.

Hilda actually believed those tales. Of course, she never accused the young prince outright. She didn't have to. Gordon knew the meaning of the glances she threw his ways when she thought he wasn't looking, the way she always found an excuse to leave a room when he walked in. Even the abandoned walls of his ancestral family home would be preferable to that.

Gordon thought of Castle Kas'ion, its ivy-covered walls broken and shattered by not only the Dreadnought, but from simple decay, of the Sunfire still burning faithfully on its altar, as it had for thousands of years, long before countries came into existance. At least some things never changed.

Faithful... Gordon let himself savor the word for a moment. It brought to mind a mental image of another woman, her long, purple hair blowing free in the wind, a bow in her hands, a warm smile on her face, an extremely optimistic girl who never passed judgement on him or anyone else.

Gordon coaxed his chocobo to turn around, and rode back in the direction he came.

* * *

Sitting in her cozy cabin, Maria ignored the steady sound of raindrops hammering against the windowpanes. She carefully took a tray of slightly burnt cookies out of the oven and sighed.

Still no sign of Leon, no word of him from anyone. She hoped fervently that wherever he was, he was snug and dry, not stranded in the downpour outside. Maria refused to even consider the possibility that her brother might be dead. She didn't understand why Firion let Leon leave that day, why he insisted that she didn't try to track him down and bring him home.

Home. When Maria thought of home, she thought of a bustling, hectic household made up of herself, her parents, Leon, Firion, and of course their close friend Gus, the son of a blacksmith up the street who spent more time at their house than at his own. She thought of winter nights by the fire telling stories, and of hot summer afternoons spent outside, of everyone living happily together, the way they had before the Emperor's men changed everything.

At least they wouldn't cause pain to anyone else ever again. Maria smiled bitterly as she laid the tray down to cool. When she was a child, she never thought she would save the world. Yet from that day on, she and her friends were considered heroes, honored wherever they went. But Maria wasn't a hero, just a very unhappy woman alone on a dreary autumn night. After their experiences defeating the Emperor, Firion and Gus weren't content to stay put anymore. They said that it just wasn't possible for life to return to the way it used to be. Firion would accuse her of being childish, but Maria didn't see why it couldn't.

She picked up a cookie and was just about to take a bite when she heard the knock on her door, barely audible over the sounds of the storm raging outside. She hurried to answer it, wondering who it could possibly be at such an hour. She drew back the latch and flung it open against the wind, smiling in delight at the young man who stood there, thoroughly bedraggled, blonde hair drenched and plastered to his face.

"Come on!" she exclaimed, moving aside. "Get in here and dry off before you die of cold!"

Gordon looked around at the small cabin appreciatively, at the simple but comfortable furnishings, at the fire crackling cheerfully in the hearth. Maria helped him take off his wet cloak and handed him a towel. He'd already settled his chocobo at the town inn's stables.

"You're just in time," the woman said happily. "I just finished baking some chocolate chip cookies. My mother's recipe - they're Firion's favorite, you know."

"I can see why," Gordon remarked, taking a gooey bite. Maria looked at him anxiously.

"Are you sure they're all right? I thought they were a little overdone."

"No, they're perfect." The prince helped himself to another. She beamed at him, but couldn't help being a little concerned at his unexpected visit.

"What were you doing outside with weather like this?" she asked. "You must've been going somewhere very important."

"Not as important as I thought it was," Gordon said, but before he could go on he coughed.

Maria shook her head like her mother had done when she lectured her children. "It looks like you've got a cold already. I'll have to get a hot water bottle for your feet."

"Tonight?" Gordon asked. "You mean you'll let me stay here?"

Maria got up to prepare some tea and laughed. "Let you? Of course you're going to stay here! What did you think I planned to do, cast you back out into that storm as soon as you were done eating? What kind of friend would I be if I did that?"

A few hours later, settled on a sofa by the fireplace, wrapped in some thick, soft blankets, Gordon slept easily for the first time in months, and dreamed of the woman who rivaled any princess.


End file.
